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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324689">i cannot find the words (to keep you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyirie/pseuds/tyirie'>tyirie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i’ve been waiting for you to come home [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier has some sort of PTSD, M/M, Yen and Geralt are gonna become friends eventually, Yennefer is a good friend, and wtf is happening like in the rest of the world, i wrote it just for the angst, idk where's the Ciri is in this one, in this house we stan Yennefer, no beta we die like renfri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:22:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyirie/pseuds/tyirie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt meets Jaskier once again. The bard is as loud and insufferable, as Geralt remembers him, but. </p><p>But.</p><p>Something is amiss. </p><p>(can be read as stand-alone)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i’ve been waiting for you to come home [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912825</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>353</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. my entire life is running away (too fast)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>- this fic continues Jaskier’s story from my previous work BUT it can be easily read as stand-alone  (actually it might be even a bit more interesting as you’ll find yourself in the same position as Geralt)<br/>- I have a LOT of thoughts about Geralt and my own headcanon for him is that he is really not as bad at emotions as it seems when it comes to other people, like he might be oblivious, but usually he can read people quite well (but also through the lens of his huuuge abandonment issues and other shit)<br/>- anyway I guess I tried to keep Geralt quite close to the Netflix character who's quite consistent with all of that<br/>- (never thought I’d find myself projecting on fucking Geralt of all people but here I am)<br/>- also Jaskier bby im so sorry i put you through this hell</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Witchers don't feel. That's what everybody says, and Geralt never corrects them, there’s just no need. </p>
<p>That way people expect less of him. That way he can simply do his job and move on. </p>
<p>That’s how it always has been. </p>
<p>But.</p>
<p>They waltz into his life almost at the same time. A loud bard who never leaves him, and snarky sorceress who always does. </p>
<p>They both look at him like no one has before. </p>
<p>All his life he lives on bits, scraps, and broken parts. Then they come and he is suddenly given something so big and perfect, it fills all of his being. He doesn’t know what to do with it. It feels strange. Dangerous, even. </p>
<p>(It feels scary).</p>
<p>There is one thing he learned very well. </p>
<p>Things like that, good things that he hasn’t really earned always end in a disaster. So he never accepts them, even chases them away if he has to. They cannot hurt him if he doesn’t let them.</p>
<p>They still do. He loses them both in one day. </p>
<p>It is the way Yennefer looks at him after he almost dies. It is the way Jaskier says, “We could head to the coast” and Geralt's mind goes blank. They depend on him too much. Expect too much. <em> Run </em> – little voice in his head tells him – <em>run,</em> <em>this is not safe</em>. </p>
<p>And he does — words come out of his mouth on their own, rage mixed with fear – blunt instrument and always effective. </p>
<p>He knows Yennefer won’t forgive him, but he half-expects Jaskier to let it slide, like he usually does. And Geralt expects maybe even <em> hopes </em> to still find him at the camp, smirking stupidly. He can almost hear it in a perfect so-Jaskier mocking voice: “Are you done sulking?” and cannot decide what he’d do. But there’s no need — camp is empty, no sign of his bard around. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is good, he tells himself, but his heart suddenly feels very heavy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now when it’s quiet and boring as it was before all of that, he notices how dull every day is, with nothing to show, nothing to wait for, nothing - <em> no one </em> to share it with. </p>
<p>He’s a bit surprised how little he misses Yennefer. He’s slightly more surprised how much he misses Jaskier.</p>
<p>First week after the mountain he keeps glancing sideways and when he doesn't see anyone, his first urge is to stop and wait for the bard to catch up. Then he remembers. One time – it’s just one time, he notices something on the horizon and mindlessly starts saying “Look, Jaskier-”. He really hopes Roach isn’t as smart as he makes her to be – and she doesn’t quietly laugh at him that moment. </p>
<p>These habits fade away, but something starts eating him out from the inside, slowly but surely. The only monster he cannot kill – the one sitting in his chest. He expects it to go away too eventually, but it only grows more hungry as the weeks and then months pass.</p>
<p>There’s something tugging at his core, not pain, but emptiness. It's an unpleasant feeling, hollow, and a little bit nauseating. He was trained to withstand hurt and cold and hunger, but not this. There’s a strange restlessness buried deep in his bones, a quiet one but desperate. </p>
<p>It was ages since someone talked to him for something other than the contract. Since someone touched him, not trying to kill.</p>
<p>Sometimes he lies awake at night and his skin <em> hums</em>, aching with want. </p>
<p>Even if he guesses what it is, he never names it in his thoughts. Witchers don’t get lonely.  </p>
<p>Yet sometimes he lets his mind wander off. Sometimes he tells himself that he’d be braver, that he’d try better – if only life gave him one more chance. He doesn’t actually believe it, destiny has never been quite kind to him, yet he thinks. He thinks what he’d say, what things he would risk losing, if it meant having some of it back. A quiet company. A presence of someone else than his horse. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It keeps his mind busy – imagining what they would say to him. He runs conversations in his head. The ones that happened. The ones that never will. Sometimes he wakes up to the sound of the familiar voice, but it falls away the moment he opens his eyes. </p>
<p>It feels like he has more ghosts to add to his nice little collection. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>It doesn’t feel real, when it happens – he imagined it way too often. </p>
<p>He’s at the only tavern in a shitty shitty town with no jobs, when something - someone catches his eye. There he is, like out of the dream – brown hair, colourful jacket (less bright than he would expect though), sitting at the table just at his arm length. </p>
<p>It doesn't feel real.</p>
<p>(Destiny has never been kind to him).</p>
<p>Yet he's there. Looking almost exactly like Geralt remembers him. Almost. </p>
<p>He doesn't get to stare for too long – just a moment later Jaskier looks up and meets his gaze. Such endless blue. </p>
<p>Geralt imagined this so much it feels like it is happening for the millionth time.</p>
<p><em>Jaskier </em>– all he manages to say before his voice fails him.</p>
<p>That name feels like a prayer on his tongue.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. would have stayed (if you’d had asked)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>- yeah i thought it was gonna go faster but well<br/>- i had to be put into strict quarantine to finish this chapter<br/>- let's all say thanks to covid for this chapter<br/>- so this chapter is mostly awkward conversations, nobody here is having a good time<br/>- maybe Yennefer, a little<br/>- i had to do a <i>research</i> of witcher geography for this</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Jaskier looks at him with round eyes. “Geralt!” he says. There’s a surprise in his expression, and a little bit of something else. “What brings you here?”</p><p>His voice sounds off, unusually strained and hoarse. Geralt thinks it definitely has something to do with the last time they saw each other.</p><p>“The usual,” he grunts, not looking him in the eyes. “Looking for a contract.” </p><p>“Mmmm,” Jaskier hums, picking at the corner of his sleeve. “Any luck?”</p><p>“Not really,” says Geralt and Jaskier tilts his head. </p><p>“Killed all the monsters already?” Then he smirks and it is so painfully familiar Geralt’s heart misses a bit. “Isn’t it ironic,” he says, “How by being good at your job you leave yourself less and less opportunity to actually do it?” </p><p>It’s not the first time he hears that but he also doesn’t care. Jaskier keeps rambling about the witchers' fate and Geralt steals quick glances at him every two seconds. He doesn’t remember such sharpness in his features, and his smell is different – strangely, still familiar – but <em> different </em>. He brushes it off –  it’s been a lot of time. He could have forgotten. </p><p>(The strain in Jaskier’s voice doesn't disappear. Geralt decides the bard just caught a bad cold.)</p><p>Jaskier smiles and his eyes are warm when he meets them, but there’s a hidden wariness behind all that. He hasn’t forgotten, – of course he hasn’t, but he also doesn’t show it. He asks about Roach and says that the weather has been lovely. Geralt says “good” and “hmmm”. This politeness bordering on awkwardness makes him want to bang his head on the counter. Just for once he wants to say something meaningful. Something true. He glances at him once again. </p><p>“No lute?” he says instead. </p><p>Jaskier’s lips twitch into a half-smile, quick, almost apologising. “No lute,” he echoes. “Decided to see what else is out there.” </p><p>It doesn’t rub Geralt the wrong way as it should. He’s too busy trying to keep it together. </p><p>It certainly doesn’t help at all when a very familiar figure appears behind Jaskier and his head starts spinning . Lilac and gooseberries — <em> of course </em>. He should have known. </p><p>“Would you look at that,” Yennefer drawls. There’s much less anger in her voice than he would have expected. If there’s any at all. </p><p>Then she puts her elbow on Jaskier's shoulders, leaning on him. A gesture so quick and natural – like they’ve known each other for years. </p><p>(In fact, they have, but it goes completely over his head).</p><p>Geralt feels like he lost his mind completely. </p><p>Yet he tries to hide it. “What are you…” he starts and clears his throat. “Are you two here together?” he says as nonchalantly as he can. </p><p>Yennefer keeps smirking. <em> She is clearly enjoying this. </em>“The good traveling companion is a rare find,” she tells him. “I might have stolen yours.” </p><p>He clears his throat to buy some time. It doesn’t help. <em> That’s good </em> , he wants to tell them. Or — <em> what the fuck is happening.  </em></p><p>Yennefer looks at him expectantly, with a cunning glint in her eyes. Jaskier looks far less amused. Uncomfortable, even. </p><p>“Uh, so,” he barges in. “You staying here for the night? The inn, I mean.” </p><p>“The stables,” Geralt grunts in response. Something flickers in both of their eyes – Yennefer chuckles, Jaskier presses his lips together as if he’s trying not to smile. “Of course,” he nods. </p><p>Geralt thinks that he’d rather deal with two monsters right now, than with the two people in front of him. It all vaguely seems like some sort of petty retaliation. On the second thought, it probably is exactly that.</p><p>“The table is ready,” Yennefer says at last, more to Jaskier than to the both of them. Geralt wonders if it counts as an invitation, or as a semi-polite way of telling him to fuck off.</p><p>She takes two steps towards the table in the corner and turns her head to Geralt.</p><p>“You coming, or what?”</p><p>Yennefer, after all, has never been polite. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The dinner goes… fine, all things considering. </p><p>Jaskier and Yennefer talk, and Geralt supplies a word or two when they don’t seem to be mocking him. Which happens at least twice, maybe even more – but he doesn’t notice. </p><p>Jaskier complains about the food and the weather and the <em> horrible </em> merchant they had to deal with two days ago and Yennefer tells about the ridiculous requests she gets from people when they stop for a couple of days in the village and the word gets out there’s a mage who does miracles for money. </p><p>Geralt hasn’t got much to tell. It’s all monsters, bad ale and dirt – and both Jaskier and Yennefer know his routine through and through. There’s hardly something he can tell that they don’t know. He starts to say how he had to shoe Roach twice this month and stops, wincing at himself. </p><p>So he sits quietly, eats his food and still tries to believe the picture in front of his eyes. </p><p>It’s hard enough to believe they both are here. It’s harder to believe they actually get along. </p><p>They still bicker, but there’s no resentment underneath – Jaskier’s smile is sincere and Yennefer’s expression is more open than Geralt has ever seen. The way they talk – inside jokes, exchanging knowing looks, interrupting each other again and again arguing over something little and stupid – that kind of bond doesn't grow in one day. </p><p>By pieces of conversation he tries to deduct for how long they have been travelling together. <em> It cannot be, </em> he suddenly thinks with dread, <em> they couldn’t have met right after the mountain. </em>But they very much could have, and it makes him a strange kind of uneasy. He imagines them, laughing together at the mess he made on the dragon hunt – with both of them, and his stomach turns. </p><p> </p><p>There comes a part when they finish the meal – conversation slowly runs out, and the awkwardness starts to bloom in the air. </p><p>Geralt is pretty sure this is also the part where he excuses himself and goes outside to sleep with the horses. Where he belongs, apparently. Not with the people.</p><p><em> It cannot end like this, </em> he thinks miserably. Knowing himself, it may end exactly like <em> this </em>.</p><p>So he sits and stares pointedly at his empty plate – it has a crack on the side and his gaze keeps circling back to it. </p><p>Jaskier, in his turn, keeps looking into his mug and Yennefer looks at both of them with a raised brow at this sudden interest in tableware. </p><p>“Right,” she says a little louder than needed. “I’ll go ask about the rooms?” Something in her tone suggests this question has very little to do with rooms. There’s a quick silent exchange in their looks that Geralt catches when he manages to tear his eyes off his plate. </p><p>“Sure,”  Jaskier says, his gaze promptly returning to the contents of his mug the moment Yennefer leaves the table. </p><p>They sit in silence for some time. <em> This is your fault, </em> voice in Geralt’s head tells him. <em> You fix it.  </em></p><p>He notices another smaller chip on the edge of his plate. Now he’s trying to decide which one is his favourite to look at. </p><p>
  <em> It cannot end like this. </em>
</p><p>He clears his throat. “You and Yennefer, huh?” </p><p>Jaskier smiles, soft and warm. “Yeah. Turns out we can actually stand each other pretty well.”</p><p>“I thought you hated each other,” Geralt blurts out. It comes out just a bit bitter. Jealous even – not that he is. </p><p>Jaskier lets out a short laugh. “We did.” He says, more to himself. “Oh, gods, we really did.” </p><p>“So, what happened?” Geralt asks carefully. </p><p>Something flashes over Jaskier's face, but it’s gone quickly. “Ah, we just…” He shakes his head. “I guess we found some common ground.” </p><p>The knot in Geralt’s stomachs gets tighter. <em> Their common ground is that you are a fucking idiot.  </em></p><p>“She’s a lot like you actually,” Jaskier says slowly. </p><p>Geralt hums sceptically. If he was anything like Yen he wouldn’t find himself in this mess of the situation. Sure, Yennefer had her own brand of <em>absolute</em> <em>chaotic insanity </em>but for most things she was much better... adjusted. He shakes his head. </p><p>“How so?” he still asks. </p><p>“She’s not what she seems,” Jaskier says after a pause. “She might look like she doesn’t care but she does. A lot,” he adds, and shots Geralt a quick look. </p><p>Geralt catches it and feels like he was burned. His eyes return to his safe haven, the old chipped plate. He wonders how a new crack hasn’t appeared there just from his gaze.</p><p><em> There’s your chance to admit that you do. </em>He doesn’t take it. </p><p>(He wonders if Jaskier led him there on purpose).</p><p>“You leave tomorrow?” he asks, even though he knows that they do – they said so half an hour ago. </p><p>“This is a small village,” Jaskier sounds like he’s apologising. “There’s not much work for Yennefer here.” </p><p>“Hmm,” says Geralt. “Not much work for me either.”</p><p>“Where to next?” Jaskier asks lightly. Too lightly. </p><p>Geralt's head spins. He has to guess right. The remains of Nilfgaard are lingering just across the river, on the east in the mountains there’s nothing larger than the village they are in, and Dorian – the closest town of decent size is well known for the prejudice against mages. </p><p>He makes a shot. “Anchor.” </p><p>Jaskier’s face drops just a little. Even before he opens his mouth Geralt knows he missed. “Oh,” he says. “We are making our way to Cidaris. This cold gets a bit annoying.” </p><p>Geralt hums again. <em> We could head to the cost – </em>he remembers. It’s a good thing, he tries to tell himself, that someone is willing to take him after all. </p><p>“Anchor is a nice place,” Jaskier says dreamily. “Haven’t been there in ages, but the sweet rolls they make... gods, that’s something”.</p><p>Geralt’s tongue works faster than his mind. </p><p>“You could take a detour,” he says, quick and quiet. </p><p>
  <em> You don’t get to ask him that.  </em>
</p><p>Jaskier could pretend he didn’t hear, but he tilts his head. “What?”</p><p>Geralt very thoroughly clears his throat. “You could,” he says, every word having to claw its way out of his throat, “Come along – to Anchor. If you want.” </p><p>“To visit it,” he specifies, like a moron. </p><p>Jaskier blinks. </p><p>
  <em> This is the part where he tells you to go fuck yourself. </em>
</p><p>He doesn’t.</p><p>“Oh,” he says. “I… Well…” He licks his lips and finally manages. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.” There’s a tiny amount of pettiness in his voice, reminding Geralt, that the last time they talked he asked exactly that. But it’s barely there. </p><p>“You won’t,” Geralt says, quiet, but puncturing every word. “You are not...” he adds, and fails to finish the sentence. </p><p>Jaskier’s nervous fingers tap on the table. Geralt looks, attracted by the sound – and something is <em> wrong </em> with his hands, but before he can get a better look Jaskier quickly puts them away. </p><p>Geralt brushes this away too. He’ll think about it later – right now he waits for the excruciating silence to break.  </p><p>“I can talk to Yennefer,” Jaskier says quietly. Unsure. “I don't think she'll mind.”</p><p><em> And what if she does? –  </em>Geralt thinks, but says nothing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Geralt wakes up from something tapping on his shoulder, and not very delicately. He opens his eyes to find this something to be an exquisitely decorated boot. On the foot that belongs to Yennefer. </p><p>“Wake up, Witcher,” she says looking suddenly much more serious than she was at the inn. Geralt already feels that he slept too little to deal with whatever this is.</p><p>“What,” he grunts, not even bothering to sit up. </p><p>Yennefer doesn’t respond, only looks at him with pursed lips and an expression she usually has when Geralt does something stupid. He stays silent, not letting her win this one. </p><p>“What do you want?” she says finally, when the silence really starts to get on Geralt’s nerves. </p><p>“To sleep,” Geralt snaps. Yennefer’s nostrils flare. </p><p>“What do you want,” she repeats slowly, each word sharp and pointed like the edge of the knife. “Asking Jaskier to travel with you again?” </p><p>Geralt suddenly feels much more awake. He sits up and brushes tangled hair from his face while his mind frantically searches for an answer. </p><p>“I don’t <em>want</em> anything,” he says stupidly. “I just said-”</p><p>She cuts him off. “You <em>just</em> said,” - there’s poison in her voice - “Right. And before you <em> just </em>said you never want to see him again.” </p><p>Geralt slowly exhales through his nose. These two obviously have been comparing notes. </p><p>“I didn’t…” He starts and stops. He’s not explaining himself to Yennefer, especially over this. “I’m not forcing him to go.” </p><p>Yennefer rolls her eyes so hard that for a moment Geralt doesn’t know if her pupils will reappear. When she locks her eyes on him again there’s something in the set of her jaw that makes Geralt lift his eyebrows. </p><p>She’s trying to protect Jasker, he realises with a pang in his chest. <em> Protect Jaskier from him</em>.</p><p>“I’m not forcing him,” he repeats, feeling suddenly very tired. “He can go wherever he wants.” </p><p>They both are silent for a while. Yennefer looks down on him, and he cannot tell if there’s pity or disdain in her eyes. </p><p>“Do <em> you </em> want it?” she says at last, calm and patient. “Do you want it, Geralt?”</p><p>He doesn’t meet her eyes, when he says “yes”. Quiet, and a little ashamed. </p><p>Yennefer takes a deep breath and rubs her forehead. Geralt’s arm twitches to copy her gesture – he can feel a headache coming. </p><p>“Don’t be an ass then,” she says, gives him one last pointed look, and finally walks away. </p><p>Geralt doesn’t think he’ll fall asleep again. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for sticking with me and my bullshit</p><p>i won't abandon this, but it might be... not fast. </p><p>you know the drill - leave a comment, be loved forever &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>- i uhhhhh  honestly don't know how often i will update this, you've been warned<br/>- please leave a comment of you enjoyed the story, comments are my main writing fuel and also did i mention i will love you forever</p></blockquote></div></div>
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